


The Road to Us (is not in Words)

by Marvelous_apparitions



Category: Ghostbusters (2016), Ghostbusters - All Media Types
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/F, Pre-Slash, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 23:54:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7778578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelous_apparitions/pseuds/Marvelous_apparitions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" Erin had no idea her friend was this tactile. Sure, with her gadgets she was. And they hugged, sometimes. But this, sleepy Holtzmann, was something else."</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Road to Us (is not in Words)

**The Road to Us (is not in Words)**

**I**

Erin struggles to refrain from dragging her feet in exhaustion as she climbs the stairs to Holtzmann's lab. By now, checking up on the other woman has become part of her routine, and she always likes to make sure Holtz gets some sleep each night before she leaves. Or at least, she usually doesn't go home without a promise from Jillian that she will catch a nap before sunrise.The thing is, both of them always end up working really late, anyway. Tonight though, they're cutting it pretty close - her watch reads nearly 3am when she checks it, right before she walks through the wide entrance of Holtzmann's door.  

"Holtz!" She calls out through a shameless yawn, tilting her head and listening carefully when she doesn't get an immediate response. Silence usually is terrible, horrible news in the crazy engineer's lab, but at this point she can only hope Holtzmann has beat her to the punch and is asleep on her ratty old New-York-curb couch. She isn't though.

When Erin finds her, she's slouched half off of a stool, leaning against the wall with her glasses askew and mouth open. Complete with a trickle of drool. She's also precariously tipping towards an open toolbox on the floor filled with - of all things - knives. Jesus. Erin shakes her head lovingly and steps forward around a mess of pipe and wire to put her hand on Holtzmann's shoulder. She shakes her gently, "Holtzmann...Jillian?" Holtzmann lets out a startled snort before slipping further to the side, leaving Erin no other choice to catch her with the entire left side of her own body. At that, Jillian does wake - but slowly, happily remaining in a haze as she puts her feet on the floor and stands up, falling fully into Erin's arms, which come up in surprise to steady her. "Hey Er," she mumbles dreamily, and Erin's heart melts. 

"Oh, sweetheart, god - lets get you over to the couch." They shuffle-stumble together to the other side of the room, with Erin doing most of the leg-work, Holtzmann too busy dozing back off again in the crook of Erin's neck, her arms encircled around Erin's slender waist, her front pressed up against Erin's side, as closely as she could manage it would seem. Erin had no idea her friend was this tactile. Sure, with her gadgets she was. And they hugged, sometimes. But this, sleepy Holtzmann, was something else. 

When Erin deposits Holtz on the couch, throwing a blanket over her - taking care to not cover her feet, because she remembers, for some reason, that Jillian hates that - she swears she hears a sad whimper, like Holtz doesn't want her to go, but she touches the curve of Jillian's jaw lightly without thinking before she heads down the stairs, and she shakes the feeling off. 

* * *

**II**

It's only midnight when Holtzmann comes drifting down the staircase, which already tips Erin off that she's tired - normally she'd slide down the pole recklessly at any hour and without a second thought about the consequences (namely, scaring the crap out of Erin...). Erin is sitting on the nicer couch in the building, the one she picked out herself and placed to face the large bookshelf and flat-screen TV (one of the many things gifted to them by the mayor, of course) against the back wall. She stops reading the book in her lap and looks up to watch Holtz reach above her head theatrically and let out an elongated, if not exaggerated yawn.   
  
"Hey Gilbert," she smiles, stumbling a little bit as she approaches the other woman. Erin snorts at Jillian's crooked goggles and how they match her crooked smirk.  
"You look like a dead evil scientist walking. Come sit down."

Holtz listens, but she doesn't just sit down, instead choosing to kick her feet up on the arm of the couch farthest from Erin, falling back to lay her head square in Erin's lap. Like it's easy, like it's nothing. As if it's something she's done before. Holtz tilts her head to the side and buries her nose into the lowest portion of Erin's stomach - skin-on-skin, because her shirt is riding up - and before Erin's face has even fully darkened into a glorious flush, Jillian is asleep. Erin scoffs and shakes her head, carefully leaning to the side to retrieve her book again. She's starting to feel like a fuck buddy, but for naps. 

The entire time Holtzmann sleeps, Erin's free hand rests on the nape of her neck, to keep her close. The hot, humid breath on her stomach tickled at first, but now feels wonderful. In the air conditioned room, it keeps her entire body tingly and warm. 

Two hours later, when Erin is halfway through her 600 page book and Holtzmann eases awake, they don't talk about it. Erin just looks down and says, "Hi," seeming almost smug, and Holtz sits up and readjusts herself so her legs are folded underneath her and her head is against  the side of Erin's head.

Erin leans in, too, and if they take turns reading pages of _Paranormal Phases and Theories of Astral Projection_   to each other until 4 am, well, no one else is there to say a word. 

* * *

 

**III**

One night, after Erin and Holtz have stayed behind well past closing time as usual, they get caught up working on an equation set together - all theoretical, and contingent on whether or not Jillian can build a Ghost Time Converter and send ghosts back to the time period they originally came from, which they both know she probably can't, but come on, theories are fun! And besides, they'll take any excuse to work side by side- Erin catches herself drifting closer and closer to Holtzmann as they lean over the large roll of paper, and before she knows it, her hand is reaching toward Holtzmann and thoughtlessly holding her dangling free hand. Holtz looks down at their entwined fingers with a bemused smile on her face for a second, looks up and sees Erin's studious face looking at her formulae with a supernatural, nervous kind of focus, and then that smile turns into a full on grin. 

Neither of them dozes at the firehouse for once. Instead, they work hand in hand for another hour and then share a warm hug at the foot of the stairs before parting ways and heading home to bed. Holtzmann, fully awake for the first time while in such close proximity to Erin, notices the lavender smell of her hair. Erin kisses where her shoulder meets her neck as they pull apart, so briefly that neither of them is even sure it happened. 

Except that's a lie, because Erin knows  it did.

Jillian tastes like cocoa butter and the light salt of sweat. It's her new favorite thing in the world. 

* * *

**IV  
**

Erin and Jillian sit across from each other underneath an old wooden university desk that Holtz uses as one of her many worktables, sharing a tube of pringles and a half-pint of ben and jerry's between them. The space is cramped and they need to duck their heads down to fit, but they're giggling like children, feeling as though they're hiding from something. Or hiding themselves, like a secret. Maybe they feel that way because for once, it's mid-daylight, and their friends are hard at work (or at play) downstairs. Erin can't hold in her discovery anymore, the fact that two nights ago when Jillian was leaning back into her on the couch - during movie night, as Abby and Patty looked on dubiously - she caught a glimpse of all the bobby-pins in Holtz's hair...which clued her into the amazing theory that it must be pretty long, and not a short bob or messy cut, as she once thought. She wanted nothing more than to touch it, to brush it out. 

She tells Jillian as much, who blushes and shrugs, before pushing their snacks to the side and turning away from Erin, scooting her butt back until they're just a few inches apart, and Erin can reach up to begin removing all the pins. All 14 of them. She's amazed at how much effort Holtz puts into looking effortless, feels something  tender and protective stirring in her gut.

Erin treats Holtz's beautiful locks - that fall past her shoulders and shine from the light sneaking through the desk's cracks - like each and every strand is the best thing she's ever felt, running her fingers through over and over again until Holtzmann's head is free of every knot, and she's moaning lightly at the feel of slender fingers massaging her scalp, leaning back into Erin's lap and staring up at her as Erin brushes the hair from her eyes and grins down at her, with a pretty little blush. 

And if she takes a small cat-nap with her feet sprawled half out from under their hiding spot while Erin plays with her hair that she sometimes wishes she had the strength to cut off - then well...

She knows Erin wouldn't judge. 

(Erin doesn't. Nor does she stop. Her hands are still busy at work 15 minutes later when Jillian wakes up).

* * *

**V**

One morning they wake up on Holtzmann's ratty couch, brand new sunlight dripping in from the skylight above them. Holtzmann's head is buried against Erin's chest, and one of her hands is reaching up tangled in Erin's hair, while the other is slipped underneath Erin's shirt, her palm flattened carelessly against the soft plane of her belly. Erin's body buzzes with a casual kind of electricity - with a vague itch to lean down and kiss every inch of Jillian's skin - but at the same time, she feels happy enough to stay like this, exactly like this, forever. Endlessly. 

She sighs happily, and Holtz's hand slips sideways to grip at her hip, as her head lifts up from her chest and they make sleepy eye contact.   
  
" good morning- " Holtzmann murmurs, squirming up Erin's body - sadly removing her hand from Erin's hip in the process - and falling down heavily on top of her with an adorable little "oof" that Erin echoes. 

"good morning," Erin says back, sounding more awake, placing both of her hands on Jillian's back as the blonde hovers intimately above her. And she's never seen a pair of eyes so beautiful. Or dimples more precious. A smile more devious, yet somehow innocent.   
  
So she leans up without another thought, and she kisses her. Jillian's lips are warm, and soft, they taste like cocoa butter without the salt, and she doesn't know why she didn't do this eons sooner. 

She doesn't know how she survived without this - without any of it - ever.  
  
She deepens the kiss, puts both of her hands in long, flowing blonde hair - all the bobby-pins are in a messy pile on the floor, from when Erin took them out the night before-  and she swears to herself that she's never letting Jillian Holtzmann go.  

 

 

 


End file.
